Though a Rose May Fade
by broken.soul.healing.heart
Summary: Christine thought her fairy tale would have a happy ending. though she realizes that life as the Vicomtess isn't as great as she planned. When things take a turn for the worst she goes to the only person she knows who can help her. Based on 2004 movie.
1. Second Thoughts

**Though a Rose May Fade…**

**Chapter I- Second thoughts**

_And with this rose, I give you my love…_

Christine shifted in her warm bed, trying desperately to find a way for sleep to consume her. Though since that one day, she couldn't sleep too much, couldn't eat, she couldn't do anything. She would just lie in her bed shivering but not because it was cold for it was indeed warm. When she was able to sleep, nightmares ravaged her mind and ate away at her. When she would close her eyes or pray she feared that she'd hear that angel voice again in her dreams. The voice, although it wasn't physically present to sing to her was forever singing songs in her head. And that terrified Christine. She believed that when she and Raoul fled from the Opera Populaire that she would never hear that angel voice. But now here she was hearing the soft sound in her ears…

_Wandering child, so lost, so helpless_

_Yearning for my guidance…_

She kept seeing that vision in her few dreams that soon turned to nightmares. That look in his eyes that he gave her when she last saw him tore at her heart and soul. Those beautiful eyes would pierce her soul. She wished she could run back, she wished she could erase all the things she had done or better yet, she wished to erase every bit of her past. It would be so much more pleasant if her father hadn't died and she'd be with Raoul in peace, never knowing who the Angel of the Night ever was. It would be so much easier if she could just forget about all that had happened and not have a single regret about the past months. It would be so much easier if he hadn't chosen her and taught another, loved another that could love him back those many months ago for she felt she was not ready to return his love. Yet how could she possibly know what love could be? She was still young and naïve. Maybe she did love him…

"Yet he did choose me and loved me… and I rejected him." She thought to herself, burying her face in the pillows. "Why couldn't he have chosen Areyah? She was beautiful, talented, smart, a perfect candidate for a future Prima Donna. Or what about Danielle? She has such grace and poise. She flows whenever she dances. Or he could have chosen Meg. What better Prima Donna than the ballet instructor's daughter? She has such charm and beauty and such a brilliant voice. What could have occurred had I chosen him? Why did he have to put me through this?"

She groaned hard into her pillow. Ever since that day her Angel of Music came like venom, penetrating her mind constantly. No matter how hard she tried, she could never be rid of him. Yet, she was unsure is she wanted to be rid of him. He was one of the only things she's ever had, but he was not really a "thing." He was a man. He was a man that saw something in her when others could not. He noticed her when she was invisible and came to her in times of comfort. He was always there for her. Even when Raoul did not notice her that moment when Andre and Firmin had become the new managers, the Phantom did. He noticed everything about her. He loved her. He even told her that before she left him to die.

"How could I have been so heartless? I could've at least helped him escape." She thought, mentally scolding herself for being that cruel.

And then there was Raoul. She looked beside her to see the sleeping form of her husband. She had thought that ever since they departed from inner, downtown Paris that they would live together forever in such bliss. How wrong she had been! Raoul was always gone and away for business or for duties. He was never there for her like he had been in that opera house. He always left very early and came home extremely late. She asked several times whether she could come with him, but Raoul did not wish for her company. She loathed him leaving her frequently and for such long periods of time but told herself quietly to stop her foolishness. He was the vicomte, the patron. It was his duty to attend these meetings or to help the government, but they barely spent time with each other.

She hardly even knew him anymore. Even when they were together they weren't really spending time together. Of course they were together in that sense, but not actually _together_ as she had wished they had been. She couldn't even remember the last time they had kissed. Was it on the rooftops of the Opera Populaire? They barely hugged or even greeted each other every morning. They hadn't even made love to each other as a couple yet. She snorted softly at the thought of them as a current couple because they spent more time apart than together. It just didn't make sense to her that their relationship and happiness all came to this piece of loose rope hanging by a single thread. It was dangerously close to tearing apart. Didn't he promise he would always be there for her, guard her and guide her till death do they part?

Would the Phantom ever treat her this way? Would he love her endlessly and be with her endlessly? Would her always be beside her to comfort her in times of trouble or to rejoice with her in times of happiness? Had she made a huge mistake? She knew only one answer to that question that was possible.

She needed to find him. But was it worth risking it all? She could lose both Raoul and her angel. She was still so unsure. She needed time to think, to make up her mind. But she wasn't exactly in her right mind at the moment.

"I'll settle it all tomorrow." She decided.


	2. That Face

**Though a Rose May Fade…**

**Chapter II- That Face…**

And now here she was, not knowing anything about it, was being dragged off by her servant Leah. She could never really think of Leah as a servant. She and Leah connected. Christine had spent practically all her life in the Opera Populaire. There were no slaves to tend to her every need. She could do all the work. It just wasn't fair to her that these people had to waste their lives serving others.

"Where exactly are you taking me, Leah? And what are you doing?" Christine asked when the small lady set her down in a chair. Other servants began putting make-up on her and fitting her into a nice dress.

"Sorry, Mademoiselle it is Master Vicomte's orders." Leah said softly.

"Leah, do call me Christine, please." Christine told her, making Leah blush a light shade of pink.

"Sorry, Mad- I mean, Christine."

"So, Leah, what exactly is happening?"

"Did you not know? The parents of the Vicomte are visiting today!"

At that, Christine bolted up from her seat, surprising all by her sudden reaction.

"How could he have forgotten to tell me?"

"Mad- Christine, it was probably a mistake. Here, let us finish fixing you up for tonight." Leah grabbed her hand, taking her back to where she was sitting. Christine looked as if she was only half- listening and merely nodded in no particular direction.

"Yes, yes." She answered distractedly. She wondered over and over why Raoul never told her.

They patted the light powder onto her face making it glow and seem a little paler. They fitted her into a light pink dress and corset that grew tight around her torso. It made her breasts push up allowing more cleavage. The corset made it almost impossible for her to breathe. From the waist downward, the dress widened and looked like a lilac-colored waterfall flowing from her middle. Her hair was brushed and curled to perfection. She looked at herself in the mirror and almost broke the glass apart. She hated this false impression of herself. She wished people wouldn't stereotype her as this innocent, perfect little angel that needs to be watched every second of her life. And it wasn't a problem to have a little fat upon her, now, was it?

"You look stunning." A voice told her softly. She turned to see Raoul in his finest gentleman's clothing similar to the one he wore at the masquerade ball. She smiled half-heartedly at him, her beauty radiating throughout the entire room.

"Thank you… but do you mind if I change into something… a little less… pink and tight?" she asked breathlessly. Raoul just laughed. Christine smiled uneasily. How foolish she had been for asking!

"Nonsense! You look absolutely gorgeous. Now let us wait in the living room." Raoul chuckled jutting out his arm for hers to latch onto. She took it hesitantly.

As they wandered through the long corridor, Christine began to sing softly. The moment just seemed right to do so.

"Think of me think of me fondly when we've said good-" she was interrupted by Raoul.

"Little Lotte, please do not sing. Now is… not the right time." He sounded unnerved by her voice.

"But, Raoul, now is a perfect time!" she exclaimed in hopes he would change his mind, but he did not.

"No, Little Lotte, not yet, my sweet Christine." He tried to steal a kiss from her lips. She broke off the kiss partly in surprise and partly in sorrow. Raoul looked at her surprisingly. Never had she done such a thing!

"Little Lotte, what has gotten into you?" he asked.

"I am sorry." She said sadly. "It was foolish of me." He smiled and kissed her lips again. She did not kiss him back in return. His lips were no longer soft and silky as they had felt in the Opera House. They were not welcoming as much as they were in the Opera house. They were filled with lust, unlike before when they were filled with deep care. But she did not stop him. She did not try for she felt powerless against her husband. Husbands were supposed to be dominant over the wife, correct? Christine believed that. She could do nothing against him.

He began to fiddle with her corset, trying to pry it off of her so he could feel her, touch her. When he began to untie the laces, a face appeared within Christine's mind that caused her to stop him. A voice echoed in Christine's mind that caused her to betray all that she had once believed and break free from his grasp. It caused him to snap back into what he was doing and caused him pain. Christine groaned at the sight of that face within her mind…

"Christine, I am so sorry. Please find it in your heart to forgive me." Raoul pleaded desperately.

Christine was drawn into her beliefs once more and once again betrayed that face in the back of her mind.

"Yes. I will forgive you." She said and he smiled. He hugged her softly taking in her sweet scent.

"Oh, Christine…" he said, burying his head beneath her soft curls. He wanted her so desperately now. He wanted her, to feel her body close to his in this union, but he couldn't not right now. Her surprising action caused his love to overpower his lust, to remember everything and not want to lose her.

All throughout that moment only one person went through her mind and one kiss overpowered all. It was the kiss from a monster she grew to care so deeply for. He was right. Fear could turn to love…

"Just wait, mon amor. My parents are sure to love you just as I do." He kissed her cheek as they went on to the living room to await their guests.


	3. Breaking Free of My Misery

**Though a Rose May Fade…**

**Chapter III- Breaking Free of my Misery**

A knock on the door signaled the arrival of the de Chagnys. Another servant and friend to Christine, Hanna, opened the door to let them enter. The slightly plump woman pushed past Hanna in a huff, the thin and tall man following her like a shadow. Christine and Raoul stood up from their seats elegantly at the sight of their visitors.

"Oh, my son, look at how you have grown! You are so handsome!" his mother cooed, taking Raoul in this back-breaking hug.

"Yes, mother, it is lovely to see you as well." He managed, successfully freeing from his mother's grasp.

"Ah, Raoul, my boy, it is so good to see you! You are just as handsome as I was when I was your age." Raoul's father slapped Raoul playfully on his back. Raoul's breath was knocked out of him.

"Yes, it is good to see you too, father. It has been quite a while."

They laughed and shared this enjoyable reunion between parents and child, laughing, talking, and gossiping about all the things that have occurred recently such as the birth of old Oliver's and Samantha's baby boy or about how Farmer Sebastian had chased the kids out of his garden with an oversized rake. All the while Christine sat there feeling more than stupid and more than awkward. She hadn't said a word nor had she even met his family before. Sure she and Raoul had been childhood lovebirds but that was so long ago. She hadn't ever really met his parents because, just like how Raoul was currently, they were always away. Christine twiddled her thumbs patiently and looked upon the ground, the cherry wood catching her slightest bit of interest.

It had deeply aggravated Christine that Raoul had not the slightest bit of concern for the fact that she was just sitting there like a dumb fool not knowing what was going on and the fact that he hadn't even introduced her to his parents! They acted as if she wasn't even there! It aggravated her that he hadn't spoken to her about his parents' arrival, net giving the slightest hint they were coming then having to be dragged to a room where she had to have such a long makeover to make her look like that perfect little angel everyone thought of her as. She wanted someone to at least understand her and someone she could talk to, but there was none. The only person she could ever think of talking to that would ever really listen was far from her reach. And even if he was still close at hand, would he still treat her so kindly after all the pain she had caused him? Would he still comfort her and take her under his trance so for once she could just forget everything about this cold world that she had been brought into so abruptly? Her thoughts were interrupted as Raoul nudged her arm, causing her to jump with sudden surprise. She looked up at the faces and instantly regretted having to for they were laughing at her. Her face grew beet red. How could he humiliate her so?

"Silly girl…" Raoul's mother muttered. Christine's face flushed an even deeper shade of red.

"Mother, Father," Raoul began clearing his throat. "This is my lovely wife, Christine Daae. Christine these are my parents Bijou de Chagny and Thomas de Chagny."

"Such a pleasure to meet you both." Christine smiled warmly and extended her hand for them to shake, but they did nothing of the sort. They just grunted smugly. Christine felt she was on fire from the embarrassment they had put her through and now this? She wasn't sure if she could handle this every single year of her life.

"Daae, hm, are you daughter of the violinist, Gustave Daae?" Bijou de Chagny asked bluntly, as if with no interest.

"Yes, Madame, I am his only daughter." Christine answered sheepishly. The woman nodded.

"So, what do you do for a living, _Miss Daae_?" Thomas de Chagny questioned her. The way he said "Miss Daae" sounded as if he were somewhat disgusted by the name which made Christine angry and even more humiliated if that were even possible.

"I… well I did work at the Opera Populaire." she said.

"It burned down did it not? I wonder what had caused it to catch fire." Thomas inquired.

"Madame Priscilla insists that a horrible monster and his obsession caused the fire although I am not too sure it is true. It was probably because that Opera House was already a worthless piece of waste already." Bijou said. Christine tried desperately not to slap these people because they had no right to insult her home… or her former home.

"Well, in any case, what was it that you did there?" Bijou asked. Christine worked to keep a calm attitude.

"I was a chorus girl." She replied, not being too surprised by the reactions that came.

"You were a chorus girl, a filthy chorus girl? Did you get money for your… _acts_?" These people asked her. They were driving her to the edge.

"Well, no. I just enjoyed my job. It was such a pleasure."

"I'm sure it was." Bijou snorted. Christine was on the brink of tears. Her eyes widened in horror at their retrospective of her and what she was doing… or did. They didn't know her, nevertheless even attended one of the many plays the Opera Populaire had performed. They didn't even attend the masquerade! She choked back a sudden lump, knowing attached to it would be such language and actions that would humiliate her to the point of destruction.

"Mother! Father!" Raoul scolded them to stop, but they did not. Monsieur de Chagny stood up and banged his fist into the coffee table making it rattle, the tea spilling everywhere.

"Son, she is not good enough for you! You need someone better!" his father declared, his voice raising as each word came.

"Yes. You don't deserve a prostitute of a girl for a wife! You should find a woman of class, not a woman of filth! She has probably slept with hundreds of men already!" his mother agreed pointing dangerously at Christine, her eyes glazed with fury.

"You need to find a woman worthy of you that can raise money not raise beer bottles and drunks!" they agreed yelling. Their voices rang out throughout the room, vibrating through the walls. A tea glass had broken and the tea was spilled like blood on the beautiful cherry wood. The words rang through Christine's ears and spread through her like a virus, killing her slowly until there was nothing left but her broken hollow soul.

_She's not worthy of you… she probably slept with hundreds of men… we need a woman of class not of filth…_

The words sunk in deep and pierced her very heart. She could not stand it here any longer. She needed to break free from these horrid monsters! All of a sudden the lair beneath the Opera House felt so much more welcoming… She had passed the edge already as tears flowed from her big brown eyes. She got up and hurriedly left the room. Raoul didn't even run after her or called her name in concern. From the room, Raoul's parents gave one another a satisfied smirk.

"Why don't you just kill me now?" Christine sobbed to the sky. "Please… I have nowhere to go and no one to talk to. I need to go somewhere…"

The lump in her throat suddenly got bigger, but she tried as hard as she could to swallow it and for a moment it worked. And that's when she packed what little belongings she had and threw her linen cloths out the window from her room in the second story of their house so the linen could be used as rope.

"Wait, Christine…" a voice called. She froze at the sound hoping that the person would not tell.

"Leah, I must go…"

"But, we've been so close and I…" Leah began, her hazel eyes growing sparkly.

Christine suddenly saw how vulnerable and naïve she looked. Her hazel eyes seemed too big with her small lips. Her ratted black hair seemed to be all over the place. Her clothes were more like rags. She noticed how young Leah was, no older than fourteen.

"I am so sorry. Here." Christine felt tears coming again as she handed Leah a beautiful white dress, a necklace, and a small doll.

"Oh no, I couldn't…" Leah said as she gazed lovingly at the objects handed to her.

"My father once gave me these," she said pointing to the necklace and doll and putting the necklace around her neck. "And my mother gave me this. It was her masquerade gown."

Leah's eyes already close to tears began to cry. Christine pulled her in a hug.

"I have no use for it now, but you may have it to remember me." Leah hugged her fiercely.

"I will not tell Master Raoul that you have gone, but please don't forget me, Christine."

"I won't little one, I won't." she promised kissing the top of the girl's head before heading outside. She looked to Leah again barely visible from the darkness of the night and mouthed a "goodbye" to her before she caught a carriage. With the last few Francs she possessed, she asked the carriage driver to take her to Paris. Hopefully she would find who she was looking for and that he would forgive her for everything.


	4. Curiosity Killed the Cat

I do not own Phantom of the Opera, although I wish I did.

**Though a Rose May Fade…**

**Chapter IV- Curiosity Killed the Cat**

Christine now faced the Opera Populaire… or what was left of it. It was just ashes now, hardly considered to be a structure. Within those doors was what seemed to be a ghost town, or ghost house rather for the place was abandoned. The stage was no longer looking like a stage. The beauty of the entire building had faded away all in one night. It was all her fault. Madame Giry would never greet her again and Meg would never stay by her side as her loyal companion where they would play jokes on Carlotta. No more masquerades or plays or arguments amongst who would be playing the lead when Carlotta would leave in a huff. No more music of the night…

_The phantom is not dead… is he? If he is I could never find a way to ever forgive myself for all the horror I have caused…_ Christine thought.

She ran to her old room when she had starred in _Hannibal_. Her mirror there was now shattered to pieces. It tore her heart to think of what could have happened. She passed through the mirror to find the lair now in shambles, the candles and candelabras broken or fallen to the floor. She saw the lake; the once clear water now was murky and filled with mud. She trudged further until she reached that piece of land she wanted to see once more so badly.

_Please…_

She searched through his former home finding nothing, nobody. She was all alone and it was all her fault. She looked through a little room where she saw a dead rose wrapped in a black satin bow lying on the ground. She picked it up and stroked its dry petals. It looked so perfect before it died. She felt sympathy for the rose. She felt like a beautiful rose that had been dying just as this one was. She kept on searching through the lair without success. She missed seeing the broken candleholder and tripped over it. In fear, she clutched onto a curtain, hoping it would save her fall, but it didn't, and she hit the ground with a small thud. The curtain she held ripped apart, revealing a broken mirror and a passageway coming from it. A sudden rush of hope ran through her as she stepped inside. Curiosity has now killed the cat.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Christine called softly. No one answered.

She had now been through the passageway for hours, not once finding the exit. She looked behind her but knew she was too far in to back out. The heels she had worn now made blisters upon her feet. She was losing energy fast. Looking around her she wondered whether she had already passed by this part. She wished for better. She prayed for help and guidance.

She could just imagine the faces of the de Chagny family looming at her, their eyes sneering at her. She could just picture the look on their faces if they could just see where the hell she had ended up now. Ah, how screwed up life can be. She thought about how much she had gained all because of her angel of music and how much she had lost because of her angel of music. She had been the "it" girl with men at her feet bringing her thousands of roses a day while other girls had this immense desire to be her on that stage with that voice. Then she had lost it all. It wasn't that she was upset that she wasn't the "it" girl anymore. She was mostly upset that she had wanted so badly to be that girl that she risked everything for it. She did of course get what she wanted, yes, with Raoul as her lover and a great amount of fame and glory. But it was all a joke, a sham. Her marriage was a fluke. Since when was she still "Little Lotte" anyway? She had grown up since then. Little Lotte was gone from the moment she heard her angel sing. Why? She knew that somehow the Opera Ghost had changed her incredibly. She was not the same. She never would be the same. She wondered too if Raoul had given her an empty promise, a lie. Would he really always be by her side forever and for always? He hadn't even taken the time of day to say a simple "hello" to her every single morning or an "I love you" or ask how her day has been. Hadn't he realized that maybe her life wasn't doing so great? That maybe she needed her "faithful" husband by her side? He was never there for her in her greatest time of need.

She wondered too if Raoul had ever thought this marriage to be a great big pile of crap as well and took it to heart. Maybe he had slept with so many other women. Maybe that was why he was gone all the time. Wouldn't every woman just die to sleep with the Vicomte de Chagny? He was a rich man. Of course, his family wanted a rich woman, daughter of some kind of noble to fill his "needs" rather than a stupid prostitute. Christine shuddered at the very thought. She hadn't ever been touched before. She still was a virgin. Why did everything have to fall apart so quickly? Why?

More time passed and Christine felt she would faint from exhaustion and heat. There was barely any breeze to soothe her. Her feet ached from her heels. The shoes were given to her from Raoul. At the thought, she chucked them backwards. Her dress made the heat seem almost unbearable. She could barely breathe from her tight corset that was suffocating her. Why do women have to wear such things? She needed to find a place to go and fast… but where to go? She had gone too far to ever return and yet she felt she was too far from the exit too until she saw a light. She wondered what this light could be. She walked towards it and carefully pushed the half- open door aside. What she saw inside was more than she could ever handle…


	5. All a Dream

Disclaimer: I think everyone knows this, but I do not own Phantom of the Opera, although I wish I did... and Erik too, I do not own him...

In any case, I thank everyone that has reviewed me! I love you guys so much.

**Though a Rose May Fade…**

**Chapter V- All a Dream**

His body jerked up in his bed, sweat dampened the bed sheets. His eyes were bloodshot. His whole body shivered just thinking about it. It was all a dream, yes, but it seemed so real. It wasn't the first time the dream occurred. It tore at his mind persuading him to pass the very border of sanity. It made him go mad for some time. He just wished it would all go away. Pain grazed his very heart and soul. He knew exactly what the cause of this pain was: love. His undying love for Christine injected the venom through him.

_Damn her_, he thought but instantly regretted the words. He held his head in his hands. _Why does she have to make me feel this way? Why do I still care about her and dream about her and see her face in my thoughts?_

A little voice answered his question like a knife stabbing him in the heart. _You love her… You need her… _

He punched the wall in agony until his knuckles bled. The walls had tiny dents in them, stained quite a bit by Erik's blood. His hands were a bloody mess and it was all because of Christine. He couldn't deny the fact that he didn't and couldn't ever hate her. In truth, he loved her all the more. He didn't want to, he couldn't fathom down the fact that she was never coming back to him. Doing that would be impossible. Doing that would only be a dream. His heart belonged to her. He willingly handed it to her the first time he took her to his dark world. She had made him weak with longing for just one more night with her…

He wondered what she was doing now. Would she look at the night stars as he did? Would she ever think about him too? Did she ever have second thoughts about her choice that night? He laughed hollowly at his last thought.

_Of course not. She loves him. That's why she chose him, you fool. Can't you see that no matter how much you love her she will never be yours? Stop living in your stupid fantasy and just face it. She is probably making love to her precious Vicomte this very moment! _He thought to himself.

"Shut the hell up." He spoke aloud to his conscience. Could loving someone cause you to obtain schizophrenia? He felt like he was already insane.

_I have had so many sleepless nights all because of you._ He thought. Although he was not telepathic, he really hoped that by some miracle she would hear this.

His fingers instinctively clutched this object he had latched on his neck by a chain. He always seemed to cling to it, depend on it when he was thinking of her. It was his only path of freedom if only for a mere second. When he clutched that ring, he remembered her and it seemed the only precious object he would ever have from her besides those hollow memories. His fingers gently traced the outline of the rim. It was the ring he had given to her, but she just threw it back at him. He gave her everything he had and she just threw it back at him and spit in his face.

He thought of a plan and wrenched the ring off its chain. He was breathing heavily as if he had fought a long war, which he had deep inside of him. He was losing that battle. He frowned inwardly at the metal that lay in his hands. All he needed to do was to drop it in the sewer or out onto the dirt. He flinched at the thought. He just couldn't bring himself to. Forgetting was much worse than remembering.

He sighed, the strength he once had now leaving him. He was just about to go to bed when a sound reached his ear. Could it be footsteps? Only one person knew where he had gone. He cursed her. She wasn't supposed to come until Thursday and today was merely a Monday. He hated Mondays for all they were worth.

"Antoinette, don't you realize it is a Monday? It is not a…" his voice trailed off as he turned to see the figure before him. He must've been dreaming. It just couldn't be real.

"Christine?"


	6. Losing Grip

Yet again, it breaks my heart to announce that I do not own Phantom of the Opera therefore I do not own Erik. I wish I did though. Then I would have A LOT of fun. I do have a lot of fun writing these stories for all of you!

By the way, this chapter is mainly about Raoul. I didn't want to make this, but I needed to get a few things cleared up about him.

**Though a Rose May Fade…**

**Chapter VI- Losing Grip**

Raoul watched Christine leave in a daze. He didn't even try to stop her. His heart begged for him to stop her, to catch her. His heart told his feet to follow her, but his feet were frozen on the spot. He had lost his voice. He had lost all senses. He had lost Christine, _his _Christine. He just watched her disappear from sight, tears streaming down her lovely face. He could see his parents smirk from the corner of his eyes. Why didn't he defend her? He was stupid. He knew.

As everything dawned on him, he fell to his knees in agony. It was too late to stop her now. She wouldn't even talk to him. His parents tried calming him down immensely, but all was false pity. They were happy she was gone. They were happy…

"What have I done?" he repeated to himself over and over again.

"Don't worry, son. You will find someone to replace her." His mother cooed. Replace her? _Replace Christine?_ How can you replace an angel? At the thought of this, he bolted from the cold comfort of his parents and headed for his room, their room, to find it jammed.

"Damn door. Open up!" he begged, his voice faltering. With as much strength as he could draw, he busted the doors open to find no one but open doors of the balcony. He peered down below to find a cloth sheet on the wet grass. He hoped it wasn't what he thought.

He searched through the whole interior and exterior of his household, completely forgetting about his parents' presence. The only thing on his mind was his Christine. She was nowhere to be found. He called her name many times but no one answered his pleas. She was gone. She was really gone.

"No," he shook his head in dismay. "No! It cannot be. Christine!" he screamed before falling in tears. "Christine…"

He had lost everything in him. Anger rose within him because of his stupid actions. He pounded the ground in fury. How could he be so stupid? He needed her. He loved her. He couldn't live without her.

"I'll find you, Christine. I promise and will make you see how much I love you. Then you will come back to me." he vowed to her through gritted teeth. "I will..."


	7. Broken Fairytales

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Phantom of the Opera, to my dismay.

**Though a Rose May Fade…**

**Chapter VII- Broken Fairytales **

"Christine?" Erik croaked.

He had been waiting for this moment to come, just itching for it to take place. He had always imagined of how she would just rush into his arms and claim that she had made a grave mistake that she loved him and not Raoul no matter if he had a disfigurement. He imagined that she would be crying and pleading for him to forgive her and he would silently pretend to contemplate about what answer to give then would shout a "yes" loud enough so the world could hear it. He imagined them getting married and living happily ever after just like a fairy tale. But that, of course, was only a fairy tale. Fairy tales were nonexistent. There was no such thing as living in "La- La Land" for the rest of eternity after you found your soul mate.

"In fact," the phantom thought, "it is quite the opposite. They turn on you and betray you just when they find your weakness. At least, with my life, that happened. Love is weak and blinded."

But there he still gaped at the presence of his lost love just like in his dreams. She looked just as beautiful as ever. He swore it was a dream, convinced himself it was a dream… but a part of him still hoped and believed that it was no dream but was a dream that came true. Would she do as she did in his imaginations? Would she profess her love for him?

"No. She will just reject you again and make you suffer." His mind spoke to him but he refused to believe.

Christine stood there, her feet planted to the ground. The awkward silence was making her go ballistic. Why couldn't she say something? Why couldn't the phantom say something? She so desperately wanted to move and to speak so she could tell him of how she felt, but her voice was caught in her throat and her feet were planted on the earth. One look at that mask and all her memories and a flood of emotions made its way through her. She was afraid of how much she could possibly take.

The way her feet would not budge or the way how she would not speak unnerved Erik. What the hell was she trying to do? It mad him self-conscious and insecure. It made him give into his own mind, which he had been fighting so hard to win.

"So what are you doing here now, Christine? Have you come to make my life more of a torture than you had already done? Have you come just to mock me or make me weak in the knees over you once more? Have you come just to laugh at how your so-called 'Angel of Music' is going through his self-made hell? Are you trying to kill me now because if you wish to than please do so without heed." Erik spat, glaring at the helpless girl before him. Christine's emotions were beginning to take control as tears began to fill her eyes.

"No. I don't even know why I thought of coming here. What a fool I must be." She muttered her voice hoarse and weak.

Erik laughed hollowly. "Come now, Christine we have already begun. Please, tell me what you are trying to say. I am eager to hear."

His voice sounded sarcastic and amused. Christine's defenses were beginning to fade.

"You are heartless. I was so foolish as to think you would ever contain compassion. You know nothing of love." She spilled then instantly regretted the words.

Erik turned away from her eyes in disbelief. "Are you so certain, Christine, when I had proclaimed my love for you when you gave me back my engagement ring? Am I the one who knows nothing of love or are you? Surely you _do _for you have your precious Raoul to fulfill your ever present needs! No, Christine, I have loved someone and if you name the first person you can think of you are probably correct. I did and still do, but they turned against me and put the music of the night to its grave. They betrayed me and spoke venomously of their hatred for me but I persisted still. And for what? It was all for nothing. I know love, Christine, more than you think.

"I'm so sorry, so very sorry… I didn't mean it…"

"Yes, I'm so sure. Where is your beloved Vicomte? Shouldn't you be with the man you so utterly adore at this hour rather than with this hideous monster!"

At those words, Christine fell to her knees and sobbed. They tore her heart and ignited the memories she so deeply desired to be lost forever in the flaming furnace. The words broke her. It was more than she could handle. Tears and make-up streamed down her cheeks forming small rivers. Her cheeks were flushed. Her breathing was ragged. She just realized how exhausted she was. Erik pretended not to notice although it hurt him to see her like this. Slowly Christine tried to regain composure.

"Do you even know how much I had gone through after that night in your godforsaken lair? Do you? My _beloved _Vicomte and his whole family made me feel like a fool. They treated me like filth. They insulted me, the Opera Populaire, you, Meg, Madame Giry… everything and everyone! I didn't know what to do or what to say so I sat there allowing me to be a fool and allowing them to make fools of everyone and everything that had occurred in my life like it all was just some damn joke! Then after it all happened I ran to the one person I thought that could help me. So I searched for him for endless painstaking hours just to know if he would have the heart to forgive me. Well, you can just screw that plan!" Christine's voice wavered dangerously.

"They insulted the Opera House?"

"Monsieur, I am quite aware that you heard what I had spoken."

"And the Vicomte did nothing to defend you?"

"No. He just let me be played a fool."

Erik nodded. Even he thought that Raoul would stand up for her. He hated Raoul for all he was worth. He never truly trusted Raoul, but felt that he was trustworthy enough to stand by Christine's side till death. This made no sense. He felt sorry for her, no doubt, but something still felt off.

"Fine. You can… stay for the time being." He said in defeat. It was extremely difficult to brush her off even if she had done some horrible things to him. Christine's eyes lit up with gratitude.

"Thank you so much! Thank you…"

"Erik. My name is… Erik."

"Erik…" she repeated, letting the word roll softly from her tongue. She liked it.

"Thank you, Erik."


	8. Sleepless Nights

Disclaimer: I never have and never will own Phantom of the Opera. Although this plot is mine so please do not steal it.

Sorry guys!My cousins were overall last week so I could not update my phic. Please do not be too mad at me.This one is a bit of a filler by the way.

I thank all of my faithful readers and especially my reviewers. You guys are the best.I feel so unbelievably happy when you guys review my work and evengive me tips on how to improve it because without you guys helping me, I wouldn't be able to know what my flaws are. I thank you from the bottom of my healing heart.

Kagome-chan (Kagome1514): I hope this one is a bit longer than before. I tried to make it longer. If you still want it longer, please tell me. --

**Though a Rose May Fade…**

**Chapter VIII- Sleepless Nights **

Erik tossed and turned in bed. He thought sleep would come easily. He had what he desired. He had Christine. So why did he feel so guilty about it? She needed him didn't she? Wasn't that what he had wanted so badly? Didn't he want Christine to need and stay with him? Of course he did. He knew that perfectly well, but something was still bothering him. Something he couldn't exactly pinpoint. He tried so much to grasp it. The little peeve was keeping him awake. What else did his heart yearn for? He wanted nothing more… or did he?

What if Raoul would find her and ask her to leave with him? Would she agree and leave him at the time when he needs her most like how she did that night? Would she even remember him when she would leave? Would he be arrested then and be killed? Would she even care? Would she even know? Of course she would know. She would be the Countess then would she not? She wouldn't care. She never cared. Then why did she come here? This probably was her last choice anyways. Then that meant that Madame Giry knew what had happened? Did she know where Christine was at this very moment? He trusted her yes, but after that chandelier incident it would be quite generous of her to be keeping his secret still. Of course, if she did know then she probably would've kept it not for his sake but for Christine's.

Did she once think of him after she and Raoul fled? Did she think of her Angel of Music? Erik shook his head at the thought. Of course not. Why would she have reason to? Her precious Vicomte would be occupying her time and thoughts. He shuddered at even thinking that she would waste such time on him. Why would she waste so much effort for him when he had treated her like scum? Then it hit him. He had once done the same. In that Opera house he had brought a young soprano to his lair, revealing himself to her, doing whatever it would take to get her just to look at him. He had opened up to her and to everyone else in his blinding efforts to the "point of no return." He knew why she probably had done so. She loves him… just like how he loves her.

"NO! I meant _loved_ not _loves._ What the hell is the matter with me?" he groaned. He pounded the bed sheets in frustration. This was not how he wanted to his first day of glory and triumph to end up as. This was not at all good. He groaned in annoyance.

"Since when does being at the happiest period of my life right now just seem so… superficial? I mean, I have the only girl I could ever want. I have Christine with me… she needs me… so why do I feel so guilty, so unhappy about all of this?" he asked himself. "Great, now she even has me speaking to myself."

This was going to be one hell of a long night.

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Christine couldn't sleep, though she tried. She couldn't stop thinking about what had happened, about how Raoul and her parents made her look like a fool. She hated what they thought of her and how they thought about everything that meant something to her, everything except their precious Raoul of course. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She had been crying every single night although the reason why was still unclear to her. She hated his parents with a passion yet still felt some remorse towards them. She knew they didn't deserve it but she did and that almost broke her every single night. It was because of them that she had begun to doubt everything about her and her life. It was because of them that she had been forced to be played a fool and ended up as what they called a prostitute. She had doubted herself that day. She believed for a moment that she indeed was filth, that she had been living the life of a whore.

She rubbed her temples frustratingly. She wasted so much on him all because she believed that he would come back to her and love her like he did in the Opera house. She wanted him to just realize that she loved him so and would then spend every moment with her. She knew it was a silly thought but deep within her she always hoped. She knew in her heart this would never come to be and learned to adapt to it. She never really expected much from Raoul. She just wanted him to be there for her when she needed him. She just wanted him to be "Raoul the husband" because when she moved in with him, "Raoul her knight in shining armor" became "Raoul the Vicomte." She also thought he would stick up for her no matter what the cost. He had done that so many times before but when she hoped he would defend her most he just let her slip away from him. He just let her be insulted and rejected. He allowed it. How could he even betray her like this?

Her mind wandered to her angel. It was quite queer that she still called Erik "angel." He was far from an angel, yes, but his voice was definitely a voice from Heaven. He loved her so much, more than she could handle. She did everything in her willpower to destroy him. The funny thing is that she never truly realized how much she had scarred him and wounded him until that infamous night. She regretted it. She never wanted to hurt him. She wished she could take it back. Things would've be a hell of a lot different. If she chose him, would things have been better? She always thought these before sleep would engulf her. Would he be the prince she was looking for? She snorted at the thought of Erik being a prince. She pictured princes as being the epitome of the word "handsome" or "gorgeous." But as she thought more of it the more she realized, Erik was one of the closest men to ever be her prince. The other, well, he turned out to be more of a frog than an actual prince. It really proved to her about not judging a book by its cover.

She still found it hard to believe that Erik would have the heart to let her stay with him. She felt so ashamed then. How much more could she possibly ruin for him? She sighed inwardly thinking about how beautiful someone truly could be if you take time to get to know them, not just know them but _know _them. She was too immature to let him in. She was too shallow to see there was beauty beneath the beast, man behind the monster hidden in that mask. Though she had grown up immensely now. She experienced the real world ever since that day she fled with Raoul. She never knew how sheltered she really had been. Now, she experienced more and knew so much more. If he wished to let her back into his world, she would let him into hers. Although at the moment it seemed impossible. He loathed her, but loathed her enough to let her stay? Her feelings were mixed and unreadable. But one thing she did know she felt was gratefulness and that was all it took to allow her into a dreamless slumber.

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The sun shone dimly through the room. Christine rubbed her eyes and got up from bed, half asleep. She walked aimlessly into the incredibly small kitchen and sat down. Then everything registered into her mind: Raoul always being gone, his parents display of their disgust towards her, Raoul doing nothing about it, her heart breaking, she fleeing to Erik's lair, and his bountiful generosity by allowing her to stay in his house even after all the things that had occurred in the past. Her eyes stung with tears once more but before they escaped her, a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"I have some business to attend to. I will be back shortly. Food is in the pantry. I have some spare outfits you may wear. They are in your room. I expect you to stay here and don't cause trouble." Erik told her before descending through the halls of the lair. He was wearing his white mask which was now dirty and a slightly sickening cream color. He wore a cape and formal attire. His eyes were bloodshot with bags beginning from his lower lid (she could only see one lid because the other was hidden beneath the mask). Christine nodded at what he said and sat down. She had nowhere to go, so she wouldn't be running off causing more trouble than she had already brought.

She found a loaf of bread from the pantry and stuffed a chunk of the pastry into her mouth. She hadn't realized up to that moment how hungry she was. She drank some water after, felling the liquid slide down her throat. Never in her life had bread tasted so delicious. When she was finished, she washed her cup in the water and headed to her little room to change.

Her room was small, hardly to be called a room. It was more so thought of as extra space. She found a few outfits lying on top of a small chest. She searched through them. Some looked oddly familiar. Then she recognized them as costumes used in several plays. She even found the dress she used in _Hannibal_. After pondering on what she would wear, she decided upon a simple pink dress that looked similar to the one she wore at the masquerade, only less elegant. She loved the color pink. It was one of her favorite colors. It fit her perfectly.

She searched for something she could do to pass the time. She didn't want to let Erik down, not after the generosity he has shown her. Her brain racked with ideas but none seemed to be able to be put to use in such a small space. Her thinking was postponed because she sneezed. It wasn't a loud sneeze but a soft held back sneeze. Then she figured out what to do. Erik could use a bit of cleaning. She snatched a dirty cloth from her room and began to scrub and dust. She missed cleaning. She had done it countless times in the Opera Populaire after they finished a show or a practice. At Raoul's she would sit down idly. She was glad she remembered how cleaning was to be done.

Without warning her thoughts roamed to Erik. She wondered what business he had meant to take care of. Obviously it wasn't any of her business to know, but she still wondered. She would not ask him though. She had no right to and wouldn't dare do something to him she would regret.

"Whatever it was, it was probably for a good cause." She thought and then got back to her dusting.


	9. Blinded

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Phantom ofthe Opera nor nay of the characters save for the ones I have amde up myself such as Leah. I do however own the plot of this story so please don't be a stealer.

**On other news...** I love all your reviews! Pleasemessage meyour thoughts about this story! I would love to know your ideas.

**By The Way...** this chapter is just a filler. And it is very short, mainly because the whole idea for this part is summed up in the first sentence. It is important however soplease read it! Thank you and now let us begin!

**Though a Rose May Fade…**

**Chapter IX- Blinded**

The one quote "You never know how much you love someone until they're gone" never really made an impact upon Raoul because in his life he has had everything he could ever dream of. He was an invincible Vicomte de Chagny, Patron of the Opera Populaire and proud spouse of Christine Daae, the radiant chorus-girl-turned-soprano. He could have anything. Now, he was hanging by a thread of sanity, though the string was slowly thinning. It would not be long before he would break. Those words never meant so much until now. He regretted everything he had done to her. It was completely unforgivable, yes. He would have done the same if he was in her situation. He let his foolish pride get the better of him. Now she was gone.

He saw that his parents were escorted out of his manor rather than stay for a whole month as planned. He could not bear to look at their faces without being reminded of the pain they caused Christine and the pain they caused him. He wanted to blame them for everything that had happened, for the reason that he was never there for her after their marriage, how they never talked, kissed, or how he never took the time of day to express how much he felt about her. He wanted to blame them for why he and Christine drifted so much apart. He wanted to blame them for why he hadn't defended her and for why she had ran away hurt and alone. He did with all his heart. He wished for it to be so and in his grief he almost succeeded. Though he knew deep in his heart that it was he that truly hurt her, he could not bring himself to admit it for that would erase the last bit of sense he still had. He would find her no matter what the cost may be.

In a blinded rage at what had passed before him, he ravaged the town for his beloved Christine. He searched everywhere he could possibly think of. He alerted all who knew Christine. He visited every person or acquaintance who knew Christine or who he thought could possibly be helping Christine. This angered him somehow. He wanted only him to be comforting her, no one else. He wanted to be her everything. He hired a search party throughout all of Paris to find the missing Prima Donna. He knew that no one would get away with it for long. He would find Christine and bring her back to him where she belonged. He believed she was meant for him no one else.

He could hardly imagine what situation she might be in currently. It scared him to even think she could be out in the cold alone and frightened, calling out his name. He didn't want her to be in a deserted area living the life of a true prostitute. He didn't want her with another, even if that other was taking excellent care for her. He couldn't bear to think that she could feel anything for someone other than him. The thought was just too preposterous! Never would there be another to replace him… would there? He convinced himself that she loved him and no one else. Sometimes he would even wait by the door the entire night hoping that she would rush through and somehow forgive him for the wrong he had caused her. Then when he woke the next morning it pained him to find she was not there. The more he dreamed the more determined and blinded he soon became. People began to think of him as mad or insane. But insanity turned to obsession and obsession turned to desire.He would find her and whoever had her would pay greatly for their meddling.

"I will find you, Christine. You will be mine."


End file.
